


You're all the things I've got to remember

by ninthdreamie



Series: generation why [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Clubbing, Dancing, First Meetings, Fluff, Huang Ren Jun-centric, Implied Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin - Freeform, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, renjun ALMOST gets an anxiety attack at some point, renmin are bffs in here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:01:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23079028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninthdreamie/pseuds/ninthdreamie
Summary: Renjun just wanted to feel alive again. Clubbing wasn't exactly the answer.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas
Series: generation why [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1658689
Comments: 8
Kudos: 40





	You're all the things I've got to remember

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hoeunki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoeunki/gifts), [weonderlust](https://archiveofourown.org/users/weonderlust/gifts).



> HI. i know, i haven't written luren properly in a while. i have had a lot of prompts and ideas for the ship, but i couldn't finish those wips for some reason so it took a long time to get to this point. who would've thought i'd be writing fluffy luren, right? too unreal yes, but it's here! i hope you like it. ara and erika, i hope you both like this too. <3
> 
> here's the playlist to set the mood! enjoy!

Renjun always wondered how it felt to be like everyone else around his age.

They always seemed like they had nothing to worry about, like they’re not carrying their future on their shoulders. It’s as if they’re not burdened by anything. It’s as if they believe the world is theirs to conquer.

Sometimes, it makes him question if they’re the ones being too childish and reckless, or maybe it’s just because he grew up and his view of the world dimmed.

Growing up used to sound really nice and thrilling when he was six years old, when all that he had to do was be a good kid and wonder about how his plush toys were doing in his bed. But now that he is nineteen and has an idea of how the world works, it just sounds like a warning.

A warning that his time just keeps running out and it won’t slow down for him, so he should not make any more mistakes.

“Renjun, I’m home!”

He looks up from his laptop—the paper he chose to make ahead, so that he won’t be so stressed by the time more tasks pile up. He smiles because his best friend has finally returned to their place, and he honestly has been missing his company.

“Welcome home.” Renjun utters quietly, shifting his focus to the screen of his laptop again after. What matters is that Jaemin has returned safely, with no injuries.

Sometimes though, he considers the hickeys on his neck as such.

“Have you eaten? Do you want me to cook? How are you? What are you doing?” Jaemin’s voice echoes around the walls of their apartment. He can tell that he has gone to the kitchen.

Renjun saves the file of his paper, even if he’s not done. Just in case his laptop crashes in the midst of making it. “I only ate ramen, but it’d be nice if you cook for us. I’m also fine, just another bleak day, doing a paper in advance.”

His fingers pause for a moment, lightly resting against the keyboard as he looks at the sentence he is typing. He lost track on what the sentence was supposed to be. He couldn’t finish it. He couldn’t recall the rest of the words. Another sigh leaves his lips. _I’m tired_.

“Yes, the usual day for Huang Renjun! You want stew or something you could eat with rice?”

“Whatever is in there, they’re all still delicious anyway.”

“Stop flattering me, Huang Renjun!” Jaemin whines in response.

Too carried away by their conversation, and also too damn tired to finish the sentence, he closes his laptop and gets up from the couch. “I miss your ass. You keep on staying over at Jeno’s place, and it’s making me sad.”

See, Renjun usually struggles with being open about what he feels. He is not used to being loud about what he thinks about certain things, about his preferences, and whatever. Jaemin is an exception, though; there’s something about his best friend that makes him feel at ease. It’s been like that since they met during college orientation day.

His usually stiff shoulders loosen up when he hugs Jaemin from behind, resting his cheek on his back. _Warm_ , that’s what his best friend is, the polar opposite of Renjun always feels. Heck, the only one who will probably ever provide that feeling.

“I missed you too, Junnie. I’ll cook well for us!”

Renjun feels the tears beginning to form when he hears the sincerity in his smooth, deep voice. He has been having the urge to cry lately; he likes to think it’s because he missed Jaemin a lot.

*

After a tasty dinner, Jaemin goes to bed after having a quick night bath and doing his skincare routine. It’s already eleven in the evening. Renjun is still awake, not a bit of drowsiness coursing through his veins.

He finds himself holding onto his pencil tightly, and then loosening his grip, letting it glide through the paper. He has not sketched anything in a while, and he has been wanting to, but university just likes to get in the way all the time.

So now that he has a bit of free time to sketch, he just feels like every curve of the lines he’s creating lead to nothing. It’s like he’s sketching something that doesn’t make sense, something abstract. Not to mention, abstract stuff is not his thing when it comes to art.

He suddenly does not want to sketch.

 _What do you want?_ He asks himself as he places the pencil on his table, next to his small sketchpad. He then turns to the left, where his past arts are pasted. He was against that at first, but Jaemin insisted on having an art exhibit of some sort in their room, so he just let him do what he wanted.

One of the sketches happens to be a top view of the city at night. There are many squares that stand for the buildings’ roofs. Lights are flashing in some corners. There are many cars going down highways and overpasses and narrow one-way roads. It’s so _alive_.

Renjun feels something looking at his artwork. It makes him want to do something. It makes him crave for something unseen, something spiritual. It unleashes a side he has been suppressing for so long.

It is only when he lies down on his bed and shuts his eyes does he realize what he wants.

*

“Feeling alive?”

“Nana, I think I need to go to a club with you. Maybe I want to let loose.” Renjun shrugs his shoulders, scrolling down Pinterest for some outfit ideas.

Even if he isn’t looking directly at him, he could tell how Jaemin is currently staring at him. His eyes and mouth are widening so dramatically, one could think he saw or heard something scandalous. He definitely wants to say something, but the words are caught in his throat.

The silence is making everything so awkward. Just as he thought it was going to last longer, his best friend finally breaks the silence. Jaemin breathes in heavily. “I never thought that I’d hear that from _you_.”

Renjun looks up from his phone, frowning. “You’re making me sound like I’m naive and boring.”

“I don’t mean it that way! It’s just that I never heard you talking about parties, until right now.” Jaemin looks at him from head to toe for a few seconds, before going back to fixing his stuff on his study area. “Or maybe you told me about it once, and I forgot.”

An exasperated sigh slips from his mouth. “I’ve _never_ been to a party yet. I know, very uncultured of me—,”

“It doesn’t make you uncultured!” Jaemin cuts in, and he can hear the pout in his voice.

“And I just wanna try partying, at least.” Renjun scrolls down Pinterest again, seeing a fit that he likes. “Wanna see the fun in it, and what kind of magic clubbing has that led you to your boyfriend.”

He chuckles a little when he feels Jaemin glaring at him. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“ _Yet_.” Renjun adds.

Jaemin does not respond to that, but he could see that smile gracing his godlike face so well. His best friend has fallen head over heels for this person he barely knows. It makes him wonder why there’s no actual progress between the two. Renjun drops his phone by his side and claps his hands, signifying that he is going to return to the supposed topic.

“Anyways, I said why I wanna go to a club. So will you come with me?”

He didn’t even have to stay sitting there, because Jaemin quickly agreed, but he had to listen to him nag about how they should stay together throughout and how he should take care of himself. Renjun laughs, because he feels like his best friend’s legitimate child.

But well, he is looking forward to the weekend.

*

After having to endure another week of classes and adding more things to do in his journal, the time has come to finally get out of their apartment. Renjun has lost all the excitement he had for it, but his gut is telling him that this Friday night will turn out fine. He hopes his intuition does not fail him.

For tonight, they’re going to go to a club that’s a few blocks away from their apartment. According to Jaemin, it would take a ten minute walk to get there. The perk is that they won’t have to spend money for taxi. Another perk is that his best friend will be the one staying sober tonight; he has gotten tired of abusing his liver.

Renjun looks at his reflection in the mirror. It feels strange to wear a shirt that is about to slip off his shoulders, to wear his only pair of leather pants after so long, and have kohl emphasizing his eyes. He doesn’t look like his usual prim and proper self—with the turtlenecks, coats, and unkempt hair. It’s a fresh look, something foreign.

He likes this change, though. He just needs to get used to it, especially the gel used to push back his hair making his scalp itch. It’s getting annoying. He fixes his shirt a little, so it won’t show much of his collarbones. Renjun hopes he looks decent enough when they enter the club later.

“Junnie, are you ready?”

Jaemin is leaning by the door frame, his getup a lot more daring than his. Glitter is emphasizing his eyelids, he’s wearing a short-sleeved mesh shirt that hugs his frame perfectly, one of his many Adidas track pants, and sneakers. Anyone can tell he is the confident one with just a glance. His best friend looks like he is ready to party and make the night his bitch.

He wishes he could be as confident as Jaemin too, soon. He nods in response. His nerves are starting to act up, but he keeps it under control. “Yeah, let’s go.”

The breeze is colder than usual, and it doesn’t help in calming his nerves. Damn, he should have brought a jacket with him, but he forgot. It’ll take ten minutes to get to the club, and he is sure that he would already start trembling by the time they get there. So with every few steps, he rubs his palms together to produce at least a bit of heat.

For a moment, he thought his heart was finally going to jump out of his throat. Jaemin grabs his hand, and suddenly, in front of them are two men bigger than them scrutinizing them. It’s like they’re looking into his soul, it’s making him uneasy. It makes him want to go back home.

But he wanted this. He has to go with it, so he gulps down the anxiousness bubbling up. He holds his best friend’s hand tighter as the two men allow them to enter.

Renjun couldn’t really process everything in the first five seconds. Jesus, it’s overwhelming. First of all, it’s fucking _hot_ ; no wonder why Jaemin said it’s better to wear less clothes. It’s as if there’s no air within the corners of this place. He is wondering how people even breathe here.

God, he is literally out of words. His ears are beginning to hurt, and the vibrations are making his body tremble even more. The bass of the music playing is so loud that it’s deafening.

Amidst the loudness, he hears Jaemin ask him if he’s okay. He quickly shouts back a “yes,” even if he feels the complete opposite of that. Renjun wants to take it back. He wants this to be over with as soon as possible.

It is a Friday night, so it is not a surprise that the club is full of people. Every space is so cramped, everyone is so energetic and _alive_ , and they’re dancing to the music like it’s their lifeline. The most cramped spot is definitely where that glistening disco ball sheds light on the people who aren’t _just_ dancing.

How he managed to not let go of Jaemin’s hand, he has no idea. He wanted to curl himself into a ball the moment he felt someone else’s sweat come in contact with his bare skin, but he’s finally in the bartending area where he could take a breather. Renjun felt like he was under the influence of alcohol the whole time.

Of course, what’s the purpose of clubbing when you don’t get a mixed drink or have a few shots?

The two sit next to each other. Jaemin already has his wallet in his hand, and Renjun notices that his own hands are shaking. It’s definitely from the anxiety. He tries to distract himself by listening to a pair next to them; they seem to be flirting.

His heart just can’t calm the fuck down.

“What do you want to drink?”

 _I don’t know._ Renjun would have been fine with a homemade milkshake. _I don’t know_. He can’t stand the club anymore. He does not know how to break it to Jaemin without hurting his feelings. How do people do it? He wants to get out of here, or else he might puke his guts on the counter. The bartender wouldn’t like that.

And oh, the world is beginning to spin. It’s like he’s fighting for his life in an emergency room, with a defibrillator to aid in making his heart beat again. That comparison brings unpleasant memories. He couldn’t take it anymore. He must have not gotten enough air. He feels like he’s about to faint. He can’t—

“Nana, I’m sorry.”

And he dashes out of the place, as fast as a fox. At least, he _tries_ to. Just as he thought he was already out of the place, bigger bodies block him from moving completely. Everyone around him is dancing. He’s exactly under the glistening disco ball now. Everything else has a life of its own, and it seems like he’s frozen in place. Renjun can’t sink it in. He is gasping for air.

Just what went on in his mind? What pushed him to leave Jaemin behind? He can’t believe that he could be this stupid.

Now that he’s within this cramped dance floor, he sees the people who aren’t just dancing. Renjun cannot believe that he is witnessing two people grinding on each other. Nearby is a pair kissing each other too. What those two pairs have in common is that they’re doing it so obscenely; not everyone has the guts to do that surrounded with many people.

But maybe this is why people like clubbing. The music, the fun, and the unpredictability of everything in between just makes one want to let go and not be who they are. Clubbing unleashes a hidden side in a person, in a way. It makes you _wild_.

For a few seconds, he contemplates on either letting loose or going back to a surely worried Jaemin. People don’t stop moving though. He’s not under the ball anymore. He’s far from the bartending area by now. Too overwhelmed to squeeze past people, Renjun settles on staying where he is.

He can dance, but isn’t there a particular style of dancing when you’re clubbing? It’s not like he could jump around and scream like a maniac here like how he _parties_ back in their apartment. He would just end up getting kicked out of here if he did that.

Choosing to play safe, he starts pumping his fist in the air and bobbing his head. He knows he looks stiff doing it, but it’s better over grinding his crotch on a stranger. So he continues doing that, trying to match up to the tempo of the electronic music hurting his ears.

God, he feels like he shouldn’t be here. He’s so fucking awkward. Could the DJ at least switch to a better song? Despite the annoyance though, he doesn’t do anything to leave. There’s something about the atmosphere that’s persuading him to keep his feet rooted here, that’s making him start to loosen up. It’s like something great is coming in a bit.

And speaking of something great, the next song plays.

Renjun grins at that familiar intro, that sound that makes one think they’re entering some dark tunnel in lightning speed, and that is reminiscent of the new wave music from the 80s. That song is now one of his favorites. Jaemin jams to that too.

His arms and legs loosen up. He shuts his eyes. He surrenders to the beat.

_Common love isn’t for us, we created something phenomenal. Don’t you agree?_

Renjun has not danced like this in awhile. The last time he did was when he was in high school, in his school’s dance club. He remembered having no shame then. He remembered having not much worries on his shoulders. He remembered being free. He remembered being _alive_.

It feels like he has travelled back to that point in his life again, and he misses it. He’s just nineteen yet it feels like he has lived for a long time. He misses feeling young. He misses being happy for long periods of time.

All of the things he has to do before he has classes again, he forgets them. For a moment, it feels like the world is his to conquer. It feels like nothing’s stopping him.

_Who needs to go to sleep when I got you next to me?_

Renjun opens his eyes, and he sees a guy. Well, he is not just any other guy. He couldn’t see his face properly, so he has to tilt his head upwards. Said guy is in front of him right now, _too_ close for comfort, and he is amazed at his choice of clothing. A yellow sweater, and then a sleek leather jacket on top of it. He is also wearing loose plaid jeans, and white sneakers.

The leather jacket does not match the casual vibe the rest of his clothes give off, but it’s interesting. Without even thinking, he grabs the guy’s arm. “Let’s dance!” Renjun shouts through the music, and he closes his eyes again, losing himself to the music.

He does not let go of the guy’s arm even as he dances. He doesn’t notice the surprise and endearment in the stranger’s face, all at once. It didn’t take long enough for him to lose himself to the music too. They are not dancing sensually like the rest; they’re just bouncing around and pulling off some disco moves, which people in this generation don’t do so much anymore.

_You know you got my back and you know I got you, so come on!_

There are no signs of exhaustion from the two yet. They’re laughing as they dance, and Renjun opens his eyes for a split second. He gets a glimpse of the guy’s face. He looks like they’re of the same age. The first thing he notes is his _eyes_. Those pools of brown shine better than the disco ball above everyone in the dance floor. Second, he notices how his lips are so plump.

He wants to press his lips against those, just to see if they’re as soft as they look.

_Let’s get physical!_

“This song is really fun!” Oh, the guy is starting a conversation. Nice. Renjun puts less of his energy on the dancing, opting for simple swaying.

“Is this music your kind of thing?” He asks back, the corners of his mouth hurting from smiling too big.

The stranger nods, running his hand through his hair. “I really like how 2020 is giving us music like this again.”

Even if his voice sounds so lively, he could tell that he is stumbling on some words. He seems to not be fluent in Korean yet. Renjun kind of wants to help him with that, but he has to get his name first.

Getting to know each other here is not the nicest idea though, for him.

After a little more of dancing, Renjun pops the question first. “Wanna get out of here?” He doesn’t think of Jaemin probably waiting for him by the bartending area. He does not feel guilty, not in the slightest. What’s only clouding his mind right now is this captivating stranger, of how dashing he is despite his peculiar getup, and how he wants to kiss those plump lips.

Maybe he could kiss him once the night ends. He hopes he does.

“I was going to ask that.”

*

If anyone is beginning to think that this would end with him getting laid, that does not cross Renjun’s mind at all. The risk of getting STIs are increasing nowadays, and although he does get horny—to the point that he wishes to get fucked raw sometimes, he isn’t going to engage in a one night stand.

Fortunately, the stranger he was dancing with back in the club thinks the same. So here they are, in a convenience store quite far from his apartment. The bottles of cola they purchased awhile ago have been finished already. Renjun regrets not having alcohol in his system, a little bit. But whatever, it’s better where he is now.

He didn’t forget to text Jaemin about his whereabouts, and to also tell him to stay safe. Of course, his best friend replied as soon as he sent those messages, telling him to make use of his fists and kicks in case the person he is with is an abductor. Renjun promises him that he isn’t.

The stranger—let’s call him _Yellow_ because of his sweater, looks like they’re in the same age group. Adding to that, it’s like he has seen his face before. He doesn’t dwell too much on that though, not when there are other things to fawn about him.

Renjun just can’t keep his eyes off of the fucking motorbike parked in front of them. He remembers what he felt throughout the ride, especially when he had to wrap his arms around Yellow’s waist. It felt like the wind was going to get him off the bike if he loosened his hold, but he was also so thrilled.

Overtaking past the cars in the busiest roads of the city was exciting. Yellow swerves through those vehicles so smoothly that Renjun thought he was just sitting inside a bus. He handles the motorbike so well. It makes him want to go on another ride.

“So, what’s your name?” Yellow turns his entire body around to face him. He is so cute with his timid Korean and yet so alluring thanks to the expression on his face, it’s making something twist inside of him.

“Huang Renjun. Yours?”

“Wong Yukhei. Huang Xuxi when it’s Mandarin.”

 _Oh._ They share the same nationality then. That switch of language was hot, it left him speechless. Both of those names suit him well; Yukhei sounds cooler and bolder, and Xuxi sounds like it’s a term of endearment. Not to mention, his other surname is Huang, which is the Mandarin word for yellow. What a coincidence. If they get married, surnames wouldn’t be an issue.

 _Wait a minute._ Why is Renjun thinking too far ahead? Does it have anything to do with the adrenaline rush? Or has he just not been mentally stable for awhile now?

That’s funny, though. He has been mentally unstable since he started college.

“Are you fine with being called either?” Renjun props his chin on his palm, not noticing that he is batting his eyelashes, and it’s making the guy he’s with turn red. Like, really red. “Well, since you’re cute tonight, I’ll call you Xuxi.”

It’s a rarity for someone’s entire face to blush when it comes to Renjun. But tonight, he gets to revel in that through Xuxi, who is now struggling in making eye contact with him. Did he say anything wrong? Is he actually flirting without knowing it?

Just as he was about to ask if there was a problem, Xuxi lets out a sound so delightful to his ears. He covers his face with his gigantic hands. He is giggling. _Oh my god, he is giggling_. Someone as big and brooding as him is giggling. Oh my god, he has said the word in his head for three times now.

Renjun is incredibly endeared. He is so fucking cute. He does not regret leaving Jaemin in the bar. He wants to get to know this guy more. If possible, maybe date him—

Xuxi giggles a little more before placing his hands on the table, looking at him with those pools of brown. Those eyes look so droopy, like they belong to a puppy. “Okay, you win. You outdid me with the flirting. You look so pretty.”

Flirting? He actually flirted, without him knowing it. He finally has something to brag about to Jaemin once all of this is over.

“It wasn’t my intention to flirt, but okay. Thanks.” Renjun awkwardly rubs his nape. He just can’t take his eyes off of Xuxi. He isn’t sure if he’s keeping his eyes on him to gauge his reaction, or if he wants to keep admiring his perfectly sculpted face. “But are you sure about the ‘pretty’ part?”

Oops, he slipped in some self-doubt. That was a slip of the tongue, or in Jaemin’s words, a Freudian slip. He was not supposed to ask that, but it’s useless to take it back when he asked it loud and clear.

Renjun wished he kept his mouth shut, wished his brain-to-mouth filter was functioning properly. Insecurity isn’t attractive at all. Xuxi wouldn’t definitely like someone who has low self-esteem.

He was ready for everything to be over in a snap, for things to take an awkward turn. But he feels his palm resting on the crown of his head, and Xuxi is sporting the most charming smile he has ever seen in his life. Now, Renjun is conscious of his own heartbeat.

It’s beating so fast. He believes it’s faster than the speed of his motorbike. He believes it’s going to beat so hard that it would rip through his skin.

“You already caught my eye from the moment you were awkwardly pumping your fists in the air.” Xuxi confesses, and he says it so sincerely that Renjun wants to believe that it’s all a lie. But no, he’s being genuine. He can feel it. He feels the former’s hand on the crown of his head.

Renjun glances at the table, particularly at his hands being covered by Xuxi’s other hand. He looks back at him, unconsciously batting his eyelashes.

Okay, before he wills himself to do anything stupid, he knows that this isn’t love. He can’t even call this attraction too. He can’t find the proper word for it, but Renjun has not felt his heart beat like this in awhile. The last time was back in high school, and he doesn’t want to remember that; that only ended in heartbreak, tissues on the floor of his bedroom, and isolation.

Now, _this._ This is too pure, and too good, and too unreal. The only way of making this memory remain a good one is by not letting it see where it goes. He isn’t going to take the next step. He isn’t going to get his number, or make effort in knowing where he lives. He is going to remember this handsome guy as just Wong Yukhei, also known as Huang Xuxi, that guy with a yellow sweater and a leather jacket. That guy who had a motorbike. That guy whom he shares a surname with. That guy whom he danced with in the club.

In Renjun’s memory, he’ll be the guy who brought _life_ back into him, and nothing more.

Willing to do one last stupid thing and to savor the moment, Renjun leans in and closes the distance between them. Xuxi is taken aback by the action, but he melts into it. He even cups the former’s cheeks with both hands as the kiss deepens.

Nothing more than this, Renjun tells himself. This is the second person he has kissed in his nineteen years of existence. Ah, he can’t help but wish Xuxi was his first.

The both of them were hesitating to pull away, but the kiss had to eventually end. They still rest their foreheads against each other, though. Renjun still wanted to kiss him, but he had to remind himself that that’s all he will take.

“You don’t have to, but can you take me home once this is all over?” Renjun asks. He doesn’t notice how out of breath he is.

He doesn’t notice how Xuxi’s face falls, because he has already looked away by that time. Reluctantly, he answers, “Sure.”

After a few good conversations about everything and nothing, Renjun puts on the helmet again, which is too big for his head. He gets on the bike, and wraps his arms around his waist. This time though, he clutches onto the fabric of his yellow sweater. He was supposed to retract his hands and clasp them together instead, but he feels Xuxi’s palm over them.

So he keeps them there throughout the ride, clutching tighter when Xuxi goes through the gaps between cars and trucks in the road. Even in times when the light is red, he feels his big hand covering both of his hands for a bit, before clutching onto the bars again. Regardless if the light was green or not, Renjun leaned against his back, because doing it gave him a sense of comfort.

For some reason, the entire ride back was slower. But maybe that’s because Xuxi is following the directions to his place from the app on his phone. Maybe it’s just him deluding himself into thinking the ride was equal to the speed of a turtle’s.

Renjun didn’t even notice he was already in front of his complex until Xuxi calmly pried his hands off of his sweater and the door came into view. That action slightly hurt his feelings—no, it _fully_ hurt him. Maybe the latter didn’t mean it.

Slowly, he gets off of the bike, taking off the helmet after and handing it back to him. When Renjun wants to initiate eye contact with him, Xuxi focuses on something else. He thinks he has hurt his feelings in the midst of those conversations in the convenience store. Well, that’s better than getting attached, right? That’s better than him holding actual feelings...right?

“Thanks for tonight Xuxi. I really had fun.”

The wind brushes past them, and it ruins his styled hair, but he couldn’t care less. Not when the air does a great job in making Xuxi look more gorgeous than he already is, and making the atmosphere sadder and more sentimental. He isn’t sure if he’s sad because the thrill is no longer there, or if it’s because he’s saying goodbye to the other.

Renjun can’t fully understand his emotions right now. All he knows is that he’s sad.

“Thanks too, cutie.” Xuxi reaches out, gently pinching Renjun’s cheek. “It’s going to take awhile to find someone more captivating than you.”

“Liar.” Renjun feels his face getting hot. His huge palm is in contact with his cheek, which does nothing to ease the blood creeping up his cheeks. He wants to pucker his lips and kiss him again, but it does not seem to be the right thing to do. Not when he was the one who set a boundary in the first place.

But oh, the timing. Just as he looks up from his feet, he feels Xuxi’s lips pressing against his own. That’s the third kiss he has had in his life. It was a quick one; he pulled away as soon as Renjun wanted to kiss him back.

“I mean it.”

 _Please don’t_. He actually does not respond to the compliment.

Renjun starts taking steps backwards, sporting a small smile and waving his hand, mouthing something that he didn’t want to say out loud.

“Goodbye.”

He does not stop waving until he feels his back against the door of the complex, his smile slowly fading. His heart is no longer beating like earlier. The thrill is no longer there. He’s back to what he is used to feeling. There’s no fun anymore.

“I’ll see you when I see you, Renjun.”

And just like that, Xuxi puts his helmet back on. He starts the engine of his bike, and he leaves. He’s back to reality. That was it. The fun is over now.

Huang Xuxi will be nothing more than a memory now. With a city this big, they might probably never see each other again. It’s probably better off that way. A sigh slips past Renjun’s lips as he enters the complex, his shoulders slumping.

*

Renjun will never let anyone else know about this, but as soon as he entered their apartment after that night with Xuxi, the first thing he did was cry.

He burst into tears the moment he closed the door from behind. The way he did it was overdramatic, since he sat on the floor and leaned his head backwards. He did this since he thought the apartment was empty.

Unexpectedly, Jaemin was there. He looked like he just woke up from a deep sleep when Renjun first saw him. The former’s eyes widened when he realized he was there and of course, the first thing he did was hug him.

Na Jaemin gives the best hugs. His hold feels like a warm blanket one wraps themselves in when the weather’s too cold. It reminds him of how his mom and dad used to hug him when he was sad back home. Being reminded of those things makes him sadder, so he rests his face on his best friend’s shoulder, cries harder.

“Did this Yellow guy hurt you?” His best friend gently asks. Renjun feels his fingers run through his hair. He wishes the comfort came from Xuxi instead.

Jaemin hugs him tighter when he shakes his head as a reply.

“I’ll probably never feel what he made me feel again.” Renjun sniffles.

Ridding himself of the good things is Renjun’s specialty. He has programmed his brain to think that he didn’t deserve anything that made him happy. He forgot when it all exactly began, but it probably started back at his hometown. Thinking about it, it’s like he has lived like this all his life. At some point, he wanted to rewire that mindset again. Tonight could’ve been the perfect chance to start changing it.

But it’s hard, especially when Xuxi was a guy too good to be true and the world always had something in store to let him down at a time when he is at his happiest.

_It’s going to take awhile to find someone more captivating than you._

Heck, it will probably take two decades to feel that much again.

Wanting to keep something to remind him of this night, Renjun makes a new piece of art. He paints a bit of the club’s dance floor in the blurriest way possible. He then paints people in various dark shades. He makes sure they still look like people even if they’re not the main point of the piece. The only thing that was made clear was Xuxi.

Xuxi and his yellow sweater, leather jacket, plaid jeans, and sneakers. His tall frame. His endearing smile.

Renjun is sure he’ll never find anyone as great as Xuxi. This realization of his helps him sleep, with wet eyes and a broken heart.

*

Monday came too fast, he thinks.

He can’t believe he has to endure another week of sitting in classes, doing assignments, and anxiety that’s going to kill him soon. He wishes he could skip classes—well, he technically could, but he’s too anxious to even do that. So in the end, he chooses to suffer.

Renjun enters the all too familiar lecture hall. The AC is on full blast; he’s thankful he’s wearing a thick jacket. The students he shares this class with are either drinking too much coffee, resting their heads on the desk and snoring, or just getting themselves busy with their cellphones. The professor did say they were only going to have a discussion today, so they didn’t have to panic over anything.

Well, he hopes it stays that way.

A frown mars his face when he realizes that someone is sitting on his usual spot. He could only see said someone’s back; they’re wearing a cap and a grey sweater. Has this person been skipping this class? Not like he cares about that, what matters is that the person took his spot.

Slightly irritated, Renjun walks over to where the guy is, hands balled into fists. He hopes that this person’s easy to talk to. He doesn’t really want to piss anyone else in the hall.

Once he gets to his spot, he taps the person’s shoulder. “Excuse me, but that’s my spot.”

The person looks up, and Renjun feels the breath smacked out of his lungs. Everything comes back to him in an instant.

The disco ball. The anxiety that made him want to get out in the first place. The awkward fist pumping that ended up with him losing himself to the beat. The yellow sweater and the owner’s handsome face. The ride to the convenience store and the ride back to his apartment. Their similar surnames. The feeling of his plump lips against his own. The sadness that came with it when he said goodbye.

No wonder why he was familiar.

“Xuxi?”

Perhaps his grandmother was right when she said that the world isn’t as wide as one thinks it is.

“Renjun?”

**Author's Note:**

> this fic was supposed to be titled "Give in to the moment," based on greyson chance's dancing next to me (STREAM. it's also in the playlist.) but a-ha's take on me just really fit this fic. :3 and in case it wasn't obvious, this is another alternative universe of mine! so expect more stories not just from luren, but from other ships as well! ;)
> 
> i'm too lazy to link my twitter (@piscesnomin) and cc (clreamer) so they're in the parentheses. i would appreciate a comment and kudos, let me know what you think!
> 
> (also, pls wish me luck on my midterms i haven't reviewed sobs)


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